Murder Tightly Knit

By Vannetta Chapman

In a town where Amish and Englisch Mingle every day, a grisly murder leads to mutual suspicion. Can Amber and Hannah find the killer before fear unravels the community . . . and before he strikes again?

Even before she heard of Owen Esch’s death, Hannah Troyer knew something was amiss at The Cat’s Meow yarn shop. The store has been closing at odd times, the ever-dependable Mary isn’t always at her post . . . and an Englisch man has been loitering around back.

Now, as leaves of brown, gold, and orange blanket Middlebury, Indiana, Owen lies dead on the Pumpkinvine Trail. The only clues to the murderer’s identity point in two very different directions—one of them leading right to The Cat’s Meow.

The police call in a federal investigator, but Hannah and village manager Amber Bowman are in no mood to wait for them to figure out what they already know—that no one from the Amish Village killed Owen Esch.

Amber and Hannah need to work quickly to solve the murder mystery and bring harmony back to the Amish community.

Discussion Questions Included

• Language: English
• Publisher: Zondervan
• Release date: Dec 16, 2014
• ISBN: 9780310328117

Vannetta Chapman

Vannetta Chapman writes inspirational fiction full of grace. She has published over one hundred articles in Christian family magazines, receiving more than two dozen awards from Romance Writers of America chapter groups. She discovered her love for the Amish while researching her grandfather’s birthplace of Albion, Pennsylvania. Her novel Falling to Pieces was a 2012 ACFW Carol Award finalist. A Promise for Miriam earned a spot on the June 2012 Christian Retailing Top Ten Fiction list. Chapman was a teacher for 15 years and currently writes full time. She lives in the Texas Hill Country with her husband. For more information, visit her at www.VannettaChapman.com

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Author’s Note

While this novel is set against the real backdrop of Middlebury, Indiana, the characters are fictional. There is no intended resemblance between the characters in this book and any real members of the Amish and Mennonite communities. As with any work of fiction, I’ve taken license in some areas of research as a means of creating the necessary circumstances for my characters. My research was thorough; however, it would be impossible to be completely accurate in details and descriptions since every community differs. Therefore, any inaccuracies in the Amish and Mennonite lifestyles portrayed in this book are completely due to fictional license.

Glossary

ach—oh

aenti—aunt

boppli—baby

bruder—brother

danki—thank you

dat—father

dawdy haus—grandfather’s home

Englisch, Englischer—non-Amish, a person who is not Amish

fraa—wife

freind, freinden—friend, friends

gem gschehne—you’re welcome

Gotte—God

Gotte’s wille—God’s will

grossdaddi—grandfather

gudemariye—good morning

gut—good

in lieb—in love

kaffi—coffee

kapp—prayer covering

kinner—children

Loblied—praise song

mamm—mom

naerfich—nervous

narrisch—crazy

nein—no

onkel—uncle

Ordnung—set of rules for Amish living

rumspringa—running around; time before an Amish young person officially joins the church; provides a bridge between childhood and adulthood

schweschder, schweschdern—sister, sisters

Was iss letz?—What’s wrong?

wunderbaar—wonderful

ya—yes

Murder Tightly

Prologue

Middlebury, Indiana

October 2

On the day he died, Owen Esch left home thirty minutes before sunrise.

The morning was cool and crisp, bringing with it a hint of autumn. As he crept quietly toward his neighbor’s deer stand, the eastern sky came alive with color. Ribbons of pink, blue, and yellow peeked through the scattered clouds.

He spent over an hour in the stand, which the neighbor had given him permission to use. He spied three does, a six pointer, and what might have been an eight pointer. The larger buck had lowered his head the moment Owen focused the scope of his rifle on him. Possibly the buck had sensed that he was being watched.

Owen had no plans to harvest a deer that morning. Though his sister and her family could use the meat, he didn’t have time to dress a deer before work. No, the purpose of the trip was to watch and see what was in his neighbor’s fields to the south of their property. If he’d learned anything in the last few months, it was the importance of being prepared.

Hoping the buck would raise his head and give him a better view, he’d actually stayed longer than he intended. He’d have to hurry or he would be late for work in downtown Middlebury. The furniture shop didn’t open until nine, but he still needed to change clothes and clean up, plus grab something for breakfast. He didn’t have time to return the way he had come, across his neighbor’s place and around the small schoolhouse that separated his sister’s farm from her neighbor’s. Instead, he took the shortcut by way of the Pumpkinvine Trail.

Pulling out his phone, he checked the time. His sister continually harassed him about getting rid of the small device, but he wasn’t ready to do that yet. Just like he wasn’t ready to join the church. He would eventually, but eventually wasn’t good enough for Naomi.

If she knew his phone had internet capabilities, she’d throw a fit. Fortunately, she wanted nothing to do with it, and he was careful to use it only when he was alone.

Like now. The display told him the time was seven thirty.

Mary would probably be at work. He could speak with her as he walked. Owen had found that a brief conversation with Mary could set his day on the right course. Plus, he needed to talk to her about the night before—about the meeting. And then there was the person he was supposed to meet, here on the trail, in a few minutes. His plan had been to meet him on the way to work, but he’d dawdled. It was close to the time now, and he hadn’t even returned home to change clothes yet.

He found the number for The Cat’s Meow and pushed Talk. The phone began to ring.

He pressed his cell phone to his right ear and carried his rifle with his left hand. A sound behind and to his right caught his attention—a rustling in the brush. It could have been a bird or small animal.

It could have been a person.

Turning, he glanced behind him, but he didn’t stop walking. The trail was empty in both directions, which wasn’t too surprising. Employees at the Village would already be at work. Tourists who biked the trail to see the fall foliage wouldn’t be out yet. Children generally took the other road to school.

The phone continued to ring, and then he heard the sound again—definitely behind him and on his right. This time when he turned around, he stepped out into the middle of the trail and scanned the path behind him, looking back in the direction he had come.

An Amish man emerged from the brush to the left. At least it looked like a man, and he appeared to be Amish. Owen couldn’t be sure because of the distance. He also couldn’t make out who it was, but he could see the item the person was holding. Clutched in his left hand was a crossbow.

Where had he been hunting?

The direction the man had stepped from was the same place Owen had come from—his neighbor’s farm. As he puzzled over this and raised his hand in greeting, he saw the man lift his crossbow and point it in his direction. Was it a teenager fooling around? The man drew closer, and Owen had the fleeting thought that it was someone he knew. Owen was about to call out to him when he heard the familiar sound of an arrow leaving a bow.

He barely had time to think that there wasn’t time to move. Owen understood that an arrow from a crossbow travels between three hundred and four hundred feet per second. That thought flashed through his mind instantly. Before he could react to what he was seeing or to the facts his brain was processing, the arrow smashed into his chest and threw him to the ground.

The pain was instant, searing, and then it was gone.

The next thing Owen was aware of was the canopy of leaves above him. His rifle lay by his side. His phone had fallen from his hand and skidded across the pavement. He thought he could hear the shop’s recording of Mary’s voice, but he couldn’t speak.

He couldn’t call out.

He could only lie there as thoughts and images and sounds swirled through his mind.

Mary in her shop.

The cold wetness of his shirt against his skin.

The buck he’d watched earlier. It was still in the field, still grazing, but now it turned toward him, showing a full rack of eight points. He shouldn’t be able to see it here, from the trail, but he could.

His sister’s face, worried as she watched out the front door.

The melody of the Loblied, rising up and splashing over him—covering him.

Owen knew he was dying.

The bow had pierced his heart.

It no longer hurt, which was a blessing. Owen realized that in a few more minutes he could rest. He felt all energy, all life beginning to drain from his body. He was so tired he could no longer continue staring at the canopy of leaves—reds and browns and golds. He was so tired he allowed his eyes to close, to rest.

His final thought was of his parents. He wondered if they’d be waiting when he awoke.

One

The Village

Middlebury, Indiana

Five hours later

Hannah stood in front of The Cat’s Meow, peering through the window and rattling the doorknob.

No answer.

Brushing her kapp strings behind her shoulders and then pushing her glasses up on her nose, she squinted, trying to see beyond the Closed for Lunch sign.

No luck.

She could see her own reflection—though the glass made her look wider than she was. Her weight had never been a problem, and she knew it was wrong to be proud of that. As she stared into the glass, she did straighten her kapp and pull down her apron. How was it that she became so disheveled at times?

Stepping closer with her nose now nearly on the glass, she couldn’t make out much more than the front yarn displays. She thought she saw a light on at the back of the shop. Was Mary in her office eating lunch? If so, she might ignore the knocking, thinking that Hannah was an impatient customer.

Come to think of it, why wasn’t the shop open? Their boss, Amber, provided relief for lunch breaks. They were all supposed to stay open from eight a.m. until closing time at five p.m., even her kaffi shop, which had recently expanded its hours. They were not supposed to close for lunch—or for any other reason, for that matter. They had procedures for every type of emergency. Most of them involved consulting the list of unassigned employees. Someone was always available to fill in.

She peered through the glass again. The Cat’s Meow was a cute shop.

The window display reminded Hannah of when she had worked in the quilt store, The Quilting Bee. Half of the display was supplies—knitting needles, pattern books, and yarn filled three handmade baskets. The other half of the window held afghans, sweaters, hats, and scarves made by Mary and other women in their community. Mary had chosen to display fall colors, which was smart. Folks might not finish a new project until winter, but the fall colors would be appealing. The reds, browns, and golds matched the leaves scurrying along the pavement and past the row of Village shops.

The Village was a collection of buildings—an inn with a conference center, a restaurant, a bakery, and six shops were all situated around a small pond. Amber Bowman was the general manager, and Hannah worked in the kaffi shop—A Simple Blend. She loved her job.

Last she’d heard, Mary loved hers too.

So where was she?

Hannah needed to buy some yarn. She’d decided to knit a blue-and-gray buggy blanket for Jesse for Christmas. She didn’t blush anymore when she thought about the fact that she was being courted by Jesse Miller. She didn’t blush, but her heart rate did kick up a notch. Jesse hadn’t asked her to marry him—yet. Some mornings she woke wondering if today would be the day, but other mornings she woke hoping it wouldn’t be.

Love was so confusing!

In the meantime, they had become the best of friends.

She turned to make her way back toward her shop—her shop because she’d recently been appointed the permanent manager. Amber had offered her the job back in the summer, after the ninety-day trial period was over. Memories from early spring and all that had occurred at the Village threatened to push through Hannah’s thoughts and ruin her good mood.

She tamped down the sobering thoughts.

It was a fine fall day. She was not going to spend it hashing over the events of Ethan’s death yet again. Past is past, as her mamm was fond of saying. Best leave it there.

Hannah had stepped no more than three feet away from the yarn shop when she saw Bradley walking toward her. He was easy to see because he was so tall and had red hair. It seemed to her that he didn’t fit in among the Amish or the Englisch. Bradley took care of maintenance on the computers around the Village. He also helped with the security system. He could work wonders with anything that was plugged in. He was what her Englisch friends called a geek.

She didn’t want to run into Bradley, not now. For one thing, he would insist on accompanying her to wherever she was going. For another thing, he seemed to have a crush on her.

Hannah darted into the garden area between The Cat’s Meow and Village Fashions. Colorful mums circled the trees. Guests rested and ate and talked at the three small patio tables sporting dark-green umbrellas. She smiled and continued through them, coming out in the alleyway that skirted behind the shops.

Glancing right, she saw the coast was clear.

Then she looked left.

Who was the Englisch man standing behind The Cat’s Meow? Why was he there, leaning his back against the wall with one foot propped against it and the other planted out in front of him? He appeared to be waiting at the back door as if he expected someone to open it. Hannah couldn’t see his face, which was in the shadows. She could tell he was of average height, and he wore a ball cap and a denim jacket. There was no doubt he was a man and not a boy. She couldn’t have said how she knew, but she was certain.

There was also no doubt he was Englisch. The Amish boys sometimes wore Englisch clothes, but they never fit exactly right. This man’s ball cap was creased on the bill. She could see the tip of it. His denim jacket was faded but a perfect fit, and glancing down, Hannah saw he even wore cowboy boots. Definitely an Englischer.

He turned toward her, and for reasons she couldn’t fathom she stepped back into the garden area, returned to the front walk, and peeked out. Bradley had already passed The Cat’s Meow, so she turned left in the opposite direction.

She’d go back to her shop and talk to Seth.

Seth worked the afternoon shift at A Simple Blend. Though he sometimes still had mishaps, he’d made vast improvements since he’d started filling in for her.

But she wasn’t going back to check on him and see how he was doing. There was another reason she wanted to see Seth. He knew more than she did about what was going on at the Village. Hannah had a tendency to keep to herself and focus on her assignment. She went straight to work and then headed home. If someone didn’t come into her shop, she might not see them for weeks.

Not true of Seth Kauffman.

He had an ear for gossip.

9780310325697_Conte_0021_003.jpg

Hannah stepped into the kaffi shop, braced for disaster.

Seth was wiping down tables.

The aroma of freshly brewed kaffi filled the air.

The instrumental hymn music piped throughout the store played softly over the speakers.

No spills. No accidents. No disasters.

It made her nervous.

When Seth wasn’t in the middle of a calamity, one was usually brewing on the horizon. Not that she was a negative person, merely a practical one. And not that Seth hadn’t improved. He had, which was why the accidents were now usually spaced apart by a few days.

Hannah, why are you back?

Can’t I stop by before I go home?

You can. Seth smiled at her, his brown hair flopping into his eyes. At seventeen he reminded her of her younger brother. Noah was the same age, but he never would have lasted working inside a shop. If Noah wasn’t outside, he was restless and moody. Seth, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy the work.

But you usually don’t. Seth finished wiping down the table and headed behind the counter.

Could we talk for a minute? Hannah sat on a chair by the front window. No, she usually didn’t stop back by the shop after she left. But something about what she’d seen behind The Cat’s Meow bothered her.

I’m not in trouble, am I? Because I’ve kept the decaf and caffeinated pots straight since—

You’re not in trouble.

Oh. Seth approached the table and hovered. His expression was puzzled and worried at the same time.

You’ve done fine this week, Seth.

It’s Thursday.

I know what day it is.

And we weren’t open Monday.

I know that too. I’m the one who suggested we close so that Preston could repaint the bathroom without bothering any guests. Preston had recently been promoted to assistant manager of maintenance. Hannah also considered him a good friend.

So technically this is the third day of our workweek.

You’ve made it halfway. Let’s celebrate that achievement.

Seth’s expression didn’t change. He didn’t seem convinced at all, but he did sit down.

I wanted to talk to you about Mary.

Mary?

Mary Weaver. Hannah glanced out the window, as if Mary might appear and explain everything herself. She manages The Cat’s Meow.

"Ya, I know who she is."

I was wondering if you’d heard anything about her.

Seth stared at the menu board on the wall of the kaffi shop, then down at his hands.

I’m asking because you hear things more than I do, and I’m worried about her.

Worried? Why?

Her shop was closed when I went by a few minutes ago.

And?

And it’s not supposed to be. You know that.

Is that all? Seth squinted at her, as if there was more distance between them than the width of the table.

"Nein. There also was an Englisch man standing outside the back of the shop. He looked as if he was waiting on her."

I don’t want to say anything that would hurt her reputation.

But you’ve heard something.

Maybe.

Hannah waited, but it seemed as if Seth had turned over a new leaf. A month ago he would have spilled at the first opportunity. Perhaps he was maturing. He had joined the church. She could hope that he was taking his commitment to the gospel and the community seriously.

I’m not asking you to gossip about her, Seth. I want to help her if I can. If something’s wrong.

It’s not exactly gossip. I’ve seen her myself.

Seen her?

"With an Englischer."

Did he look middle-aged to you? Average height? Cowboy boots, jeans, and a ball cap?

"Ya. How did you know?"

That’s who was waiting outside her shop. But why?

Seth shrugged.

And why was the shop closed?

I heard—Seth hesitated, then pushed on—I heard that she was having some sort of financial problems.

Anything else?

"That she might be dating this Englischer guy."

This guy didn’t act like he was waiting to pick her up for a date. I think he would have used the front door. Plus, who dates in the middle of the workday? None of this sounds like Mary.

I don’t think so either. Plus, she’s a little old to be sneaking around with some guy. No offense.

Why would I be offended? Hannah’s voice screeched slightly.

You’re both, you know. Seth’s hand came out as if he meant to shoo away a fly. Over twenty.

Hannah rolled her eyes and prayed for patience in the same breath. Over twenty? Both she and Jesse were twenty-two, not that far removed from Seth’s own age of seventeen. He was acting as if they—and Mary—were ancient, as if they were old horses ready to be put out to pasture.

Anything else?

"Nein. She’s not in trouble, is she? Mary was always nice to me when I used to fill in for her. Even after I allowed that alley cat to come in by accident. It started playing with the yarns and had them unrolled all over the shop. By the time I’d pick one up, two more would be wound around the shelves. You should have seen it."

"You’re painting a pretty good picture. Danki, Seth. You’ve been very helpful."

Hannah stood to go. She was pushing on the door, about to step out into the sounds and smells of the Village, when Seth called out to her.

There’s one other thing I heard today, Hannah. Something I thought you’d be happy to know.

She paused, expecting him to say that Amber had complimented them or a customer was especially pleased. Ya?

It’s about Jesse.

My Jesse? The words sounded funny, but it was how she thought of him.

Henry Yoder came in for a sweet roll. We’re selling a lot of those rolls. I think we should—

Henry who monitors the parking lot?

Same one. Seth stuck his hands in his pockets and shifted from right foot to left foot. You know Henry hears everything because people stop by as they’re coming into work. Nathan, who works on the grounds crew with Jesse, has an eleven-to-seven shift today.

Hannah wanted to shake the information out of him, but Seth had his own way of telling a story.

Seems Nathan had gone into town before work, and on his way here he stopped by the Dairy Queen for some breakfast. As he was leaving, he saw Andrew step into the parking lot. He’d been on the Pumpkinvine Trail, apparently.

Who?

"Andrew Miller. Jesse’s bruder." Seth allowed himself to smile.

Hannah realized he thought he was delivering good news, and maybe he was.

Maybe.

Here? In Middlebury?

"Ya. Nathan offered to give him a ride, but Andrew said he’d rather walk, and then he turned and headed down the road. Seth gave the table near him one last brush with the dishcloth. Jesse’s bruder has come home."

Two

Jesse Miller sat at his parents’ table, wolfing down his lunch. He’d spent the morning mucking out the stalls in the barn and attending to the horses’ hooves—both time-consuming tasks when you had eight horses. Six were Belgian draft horses, used to working in the field. The two buggy horses were American Saddlebred.

He’d been caring for the horses since he was sixteen, and it felt good to be working at home, cleaning and standing in the shade of the barn with the horses. It was a perfect fall day.

Nearly perfect.

The problem was that he still had to pull a four-hour shift at the Village. It was his week to work half a day on the upcoming Saturday, so he’d had the morning free.

Free.

Well, not quite. There had been the horses and the stalls.

I saw Hannah at the grocery store yesterday. His mother pushed the plate with slices of ham and cheese toward him even though he hadn’t finished the sandwich in his hands. She’s a sweet girl.

"Ya. Soon our Jesse will be asking to marry her, Rebecca. Isn’t that right, son?" His father, Ivan, didn’t glance up from his own plate of food, but he didn’t have to.

Jesse could sense the laughter lurking behind his father’s comment. He seemed to be enjoying Jesse’s courting Hannah nearly as much as Hannah and Jesse did.

For his parents, life proceeded in an easy, orderly fashion. You found a girl. You courted her. You married her. Next came a home and children, and then grandchildren, and then a grossdaddi home. You worked the land Monday through Friday, went to town on Saturday, and worshipped on Sunday.

The circle of life.

Many things had changed for his generation, though, and not for the better that he could see. Land had become more expensive, so much so that many Amish men his age either moved or chose a different profession than farming. There was also the influx of tourists. As an employee of the Village, he knew these people guaranteed his job. But as a man who might be starting a family soon, he wasn’t sure it was beneficial to have so many strangers around.

His parents would be happy if he announced that he and Hannah would be married soon, but in his mind things weren’t so simple.

So he nodded and continued to chew. Often that would work. The subject would change or one of his sisters would interrupt. Unfortunately, his three younger sisters were at school, and his oldest sister was at work. No one to deflect the questions.

How about you invite her over to dinner this weekend?

"I have to work Saturday, Mamm."

Sunday then. There’s no church this week. It would be nice to have her eat with us.

Ivan grunted as if that settled the matter.

Except it didn’t. Some days Jesse felt as if he was leading Hannah on. Things around his house were complicated. His parents didn’t seem to realize that, or maybe they’d learned to ignore it, but Jesse thought about it most every day.

He stood up from the table and walked to the counter to fetch the pitcher of water. Something, some movement, drew his attention to the window, and that was when he saw the lone figure strolling up their lane.

It was a figure he knew well. Same height—five feet, eleven inches. Same brown hair—grown a bit too long. Jesse couldn’t make out his clothes from the distance, but he did notice what looked like a large backpack slung over his shoulders. He couldn’t discern his expression yet, but no doubt the dark eyes would be amused, as they usually were.

Yes, he knew the person as well as he knew himself. He should. He’d followed in his footsteps, literally, as he’d grown and matured.

He had no trouble recognizing his brother, though it had been nearly a year since he’d last seen him. His visit to Chicago seemed like a distant memory. He supposed if it had been a lifetime, he’d still know that lanky frame and confident walk.

In some ways, people didn’t change. They might gain or lose weight. They might change their haircuts or their clothing. None of that mattered. Something deep inside Jesse would always know Andrew. More than the image of his brother had been emblazoned on his memory. They shared a childhood. They shared their past.

He stood there staring, not knowing what to say, not knowing how to tell his parents. Each time Andrew visited, their hopes were raised that he would stay, and each time Andrew left, their hearts were broken anew.

Rebecca followed his gaze. She stared out the window for a beat and then pulled in a short, quick breath. She covered her mouth with her hand, as if she needed to keep the hope inside, as if she was afraid to let out the shout.

She stood, pushing back her chair with a loud screech against the linoleum floor.

Ivan was the last to peer out the window. By that point Andrew was close enough that Jesse could see the dark pants and blue shirt he wore.

Not exactly Englisch clothing.

Not exactly Amish.

As Jesse watched, Ivan shoved his plate aside, paused to squeeze Rebecca’s arm and whisper something, and then stood and rushed out the door.

9780310325697_Conte_0021_003.jpg

Jesse was still sitting at the table, still watching his brother thirty minutes later. Andrew had finished off two of the sandwiches made with his mamm’s fresh bread. He groaned when Rebecca reached for the pineapple cake that had been covered and placed on the counter, waiting for Rebecca to deliver it to their next-door neighbor, who was disabled and had difficulty baking.

I was saving this for Linda, but let me slice you a piece. I can make her something else this afternoon.

"Mamm, I’m full already."

"Not too full for your mamm’s cake. Look at you! Ten pounds lighter than when we saw you . . . what was it, two years ago?" Ivan was watching Andrew as if he might disappear before his eyes, as if he couldn’t believe that he’d actually come home.

Rebecca cut a giant slice from the freshly baked cake and plopped it onto Andrew’s plate. Then she glanced up and, remembering her husband was there, cut him a piece, slightly smaller. Finally she seemed to realize that Jesse was still in the kitchen, so she cut a third piece, smaller still.

His mother had been making baked goods for Linda Rainey for at least two years. Every Thursday, without fail, she would make a pie or a cake or fresh caramel cinnamon rolls. Linda had lupus, and her joints were often so swollen as to be misshapen. Jesse and his sisters understood they were never to touch Linda’s Treat, as they’d taken to calling it.

Never.

Today was apparently the exception.

"It’s gut to see you, son. Gotte is

Reviews for Murder Tightly Knit

[maydacat_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

An unusual murder sets Hannah and Amber on the detecting path again. But this cozy almost seems to dwell more on the relationships of the characters with each and with their faith than the actual mystery. Still, it is an entertaining cozy, and the interactions between the Amish and the English are interesting.

[bemislibrary · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

It is hard to keep faith and trust in this tight knit community, when one of their own is killed with a crossbow. It doesn't help when the English investigator believes being Amish is the same as being a member of a survivalist cult. It doesn't help that this is the second time, murder has happened in Middlebury, Indiana.

[thornton37814 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

When Owen Esch is found murdered on a trail due to a crossbow injury, evidence points to an Amish person with ties to a survivalist group. Investigators are quick to arrest Jesse's brother Andrew Miller for the incident, even though the Amish who know him best know he would never do such a thing. Will they be able to prove their case for Andrew's release before it is too late? I failed to realize this was second in the series and felt at a disadvantage when it came to knowing the characters. References to the earlier installment figured into the narrative in several places. The mystery is stronger than many Christian fiction mysteries. I enjoyed this, but I do need to go back to the first in the series before moving forward. I listened to the audio version.

[whybehave2002 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Though this book was enjoyable it was also confusing. There are a lot of individuals to keep track of. I eventually pulled a notebook out and wrote the name and relationship down to help me remember who they were and how they fit in. Other than that a mystery with a kick at the end. :)

[robin661_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Murder Tightly KnittedVannetta ChapmanBook Summary: When a local Amish man is found dead, the Middlebury Amish Artisan Village comes under suspicion. Two amateur sleuths—one Amish, one English—will have to work quickly to keep fear from dividing their community. As fall blankets the Pumpkinvine Trail with leaves of brown, gold, and orange, a local Amish man is found dead on the path. The only clues to the murderer’s identity point in two very different directions—toward the local survivalist group and toward the Amish Village—specifically the village’s knitting shop, The Cat’s Meow. The police call in a federal investigator, and he quickly puts everyone on the suspect list. Amber Bowman and Hannah Troyer know who isn’t guilty—they know this community down to the last buggy, but can find the guilty party before someone else is in danger? While Hannah helps Amber solve the mystery, she and Jesse Miller continue courting. But when Jesse’s prodigal brother returns to their farm, Jesse becomes distracted by family troubles. He and Hannah will have to overcome the tension in order to keep their relationship alive. And Amber and Hannah will need to work quickly to solve the murder mystery and bring harmony back to the Amish community.Review: Fantastic sequel!! Love this series! Hannah, Jesse, Tate and Amber are great! Love the addition of Andrew and Mary. The mystery started out slow but picked up speed after a couple of chapters. The addition of Pam was fantastic. She is a great addition and sidekick for the English side of looking into things. It was so nice to see Preston becoming a steady trustworthy friend to everyone. While the mystery was startling it was not too difficult who it was that killed Owen. How it played out was the greatest suspense. That is what made the story exciting that waiting for the other shoe to drop. Can not wait to start the next book!I would like to thank Net Galley and Zondervan for allowing me to read and review this book in return for a free copy and I was never asked to write a favorable review by anyone.

[kris_anderson-1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Murder Tightly Knit by Vanetta Chapman is a delight to read. It is a great cozy mystery and it is the second book in An Amish Village Mystery series. Amber Wright is now Amber Wright Bowman. Amber and Tate were married and are now living on Tate’s farm. Preston is living in Amber’s old home (Preston was the homeless man in Murder Simply Brewed) has a job.Amber is in a good mood until she hears about the death of Owen Esch with a cross bow. It is such an unusual way to murder someone. Something is also going on with Mary Weaver, the manager of The Cat’s Meow. Jesse’s older brother, Andrew Miller has also returned to the community. His parents are thrilled that he is back, but Jesse is less than enthusiastic. Jesse wants to know why he has returned now and what is Andrew is hiding.Amber, Tate, Hannah, and Jesse set out to find out what happened to Owen while avoiding Roland Shaw, a federal agent from Indianapolis (he has rubbed all of them the wrong way). Jesse and Hannah try to figure out what is going on with Andrew as they continue to grow closer. Will there be another wedding soon? Amber has hired a new assistant manager. Her name is Pam Coleman and she is a lively addition to the Amish Village. To return to Middlebury, Indiana and the Amish Artisan Village, read Murder Tightly Knit.I give Murder Tightly Knit 5 out of 5 stars. Great second book with a wonderful mystery. This series has likeable characters and a town that you would love to live in (at least I would). I look forward to the next book in this series.I received a complimentary copy of this book from NetGalley (and the publisher) in exchange for an honest review.

[alekee_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

The title of this story brings us immediately to the opening of the book…yes it begins with a murder. The quiet peaceful setting of the Village is upset again by another grisly murder, a quiet Amish man is found dead on the Pumpkinvine Trail.Where is all of this going to lead, boy are you in for a surprise, and I didn’t see it coming. We get an indebt look at Amish life, and spend time at a lot of functions, and actives, always looking for why and who.Ms. Chapman has done it again, with a new and absorbing mystery and mix in the Amish culture, we are on a heart in your throat ride, and hoping for the best out come. Throw in the beautiful setting of this story and I was hooked, and kept me page turning. I had to get to the end, and when I did, I wanted more, wishing I had taken more time to savor what I was reading.So come along and take a buggy ride, or a walk on the Pumpkinvine Trail, but be careful, you never know what is around the next turn.I received this book through the Publisher Zondervan, and was not required to give a positive review.